


Hermitcraft Oneshots and Short Stories

by 12u3ie



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/12u3ie/pseuds/12u3ie
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	1. Memory Lane

Eyes aglow, he takes a walk down memory lane. It’s quite a long walk- he’s lived a long life. He’s been through every update: blocks, biomes, animals, monsters… He’s seen them all. He’s been countless places and gone by many names, but two stand out: Tinfoil Chef and Herobrine. 

The fights he had with his brother - and sister? He doesn’t remember much about her - stick out in his mind. Many of them were over pointless things, such as where to build and what counted as griefing. He interrupts his thoughts with a chuckle.  _ Ah, the good old days of TNT, back in- _ His thoughts take over once more.  _ Right. The Alpha deletion.  _

Once the code moved on to Beta, Steve and Alex were left behind. Herobrine thought that he was gone too, until he glitched through the code into a new world. This one, unlike those before, was filled with life. Not just the normal wildlife  _ (sheep, cows, y’know) _ , but others like him. Players. At first, he was filled with sadness, with them reminding Herobrine of what he had lost. But over time, he came to enjoy watching their shenanigans.  _ Amazing builds, endless pranks… Ah, the glitches! So many glitches! _ He saw giants rise and fall, players come and go. Or rather, he was the one who was coming and going. Using old glitches to cross between worlds was a quite amusing pastime. 

Soon, however, he would be forced out of the shadows. Legends rose of a man not bound by the rules, one who could be here and gone within seconds. Somehow, they found out his name. By that point, Herobrine was done with the spotlight.  _ If I’m being honest with myself, I never really liked it anyway. Fame’s not quite my thing, y’know? _ After years of searching, he found a way to cut off his magic, specifically the glowing eyes.  _ (I won’t say who exactly helped me out, but I think you know the story of the new guy, right?)  _ His helpers then gave him a new name -  _ Which I hated, and quickly changed to Tinfoil Chef  _ \- and sent him to a random world to live the life he’s always wanted: the simple one of your average player. He adventured, explored, mined, crafted-  _ All that typical junk. _

One day, he received an invite from another player to join a server.  _ Well, _ he had figured, _ I haven’t seen many of those in a while. Might as well. _ He accepted the invite, thereby joining Hermitcraft.  _ I have had quite a lot of fun over the years with this merry band of weirdos. Ha! _ Remembering all the builds he’s seen and had a part in over the years, TFC’s eyes fade back to their usual icey blue. He sighs at the memories he’s made over the years, thankful they’re over but glad they happened. “I wonder what’s gonna come next in all this.” He looks up thoughtfully, the day having passed to night as he had walked down memory lane. The simple wall of his four-chuck base surrounds him, keeping his stuff to him and leaving the other Hermits to their nonsense. He smiles, letting out a quiet chuckle. Whatever happens next, they’ll be right there beside him. 

_ I’ve called us a great big psychotic dysfunctional family, if I recall. But a family - my family - nonetheless. _


	2. The Mythical Trio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more of an overview than a full-blown story, but people on tumblr liked it, so I figured I'd post it here too!

Long ago, three beings were created. Their names are Steve, Alex, and Herobrine. Steve and Herobrine were near mirrors of each other, twins, except for their eyes: Steve’s are blue while Herobrine’s were bright white. Alex looked very different than the two of them, but was still treated like a sister. The reasons and methods by which they were created are unknown and will likely remain so. They were the first three players in existence. Flying, instantly placing and breaking blocks, even manipulating the laws of worlds are just a few of their abilities. The three of them traveled throughout the early updates of Minecraft, exploring new lands and mechanics. 

One update, however, was a particularly rough one: Steve was fine, but Herobrine was weakened, and Alex was nearly killed. Despite the best efforts of the twins, she died a few days later. Both of them were distraught, and they locked themselves away in their small shelters. After many days of separation, Steve left his house to reconcile with his brother. What he found outside was a sight to behold: Herobrine was using his remaining power to bring Alex back from the dead. His hair grew streaks of gray and white, and once the spell was done, his eyes shifted from their harsh, snowy white to an electric blue. He had brought Alex back at the cost of some immortality. But Alex was back, although not in the way they expected. Her skin was a light, sickly teal, breaking at the seems and reeking of rotten flesh. Deep bags had grown under her eyes, and some bones were poking through her skin. At first, she was horrified by the sight of her zombified self, but came to accept her new look. 

The trio traveled through several more updates after this event, exploring new terrain and developing new skills. Herobrine eventually decided to leave the others to go on a solo expedition to the Farlands. Steve and Alex were sad to see him go, but let him go on the journey. Steve and Alex went their separate ways not long afterwards, still keeping in touch with regular messages and visits. Steve went off to play some modded survival, while Alex went off to work on her building skills. 

One day, Steve received a message from a man asking him to join a server. His immediate thoughts went to panic. The trio had become legends over the years as the tales of the first players. Not much was known about them, and many dismissed them as myths. But some players realized that they were real, and tried to seek their god-like power for personal gain. Steve had worried that the man had found out who he was. Against his better judgement, he decided to join the server under a fake name: Joe Hills. He quickly discovered that the man - GenerikB - had no idea who he was, and had simply heard of his interesting play style and thought he’d be a good addition to the server- Hermitcraft. 

After the first season of the game, many of the members had decided to leave. With a man by the name of Xisumavoid now in charge and looking for new Hermits, Joe suggested the addition of Alex, now going by the name ZombieCleo. Xisuma was thrilled with the idea, and, after a quick background check, Cleo joined the server. By pure coincidence, Herobrine, now known as TinFoilChef, had also been asked to join for season two. He had changed quite a bit since he left Steve and Alex, but he was still recognizable if you knew what to look for. This lead to one particularly odd interaction when Joe and Cleo “first met” TFC… Luckily, it was brushed off and quickly forgotten. The three still get together sometimes to talk about the good old days, and nobody bats an eyelid. Three of the most cryptic people on the server having a chat; not out of the ordinary in the slightest. 

So yeah, Steve, Alex, and Herobrine are on Hermitcraft. 


	3. A New Update, A New Leg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'know how TFC had his leg amputated IRL? That but in Minecraft.

TFC had been working on his base when the 1.16 update came around. He thought it was cool and all - I mean, it’s an update and new things are appreciated - but he didn’t really get the hype. New blocks like blackstone were pretty much the only things he was interested in. Despite his neutrality to the update, he decided to go with the other hermits and participate in the scavenger hunt thing. He went with Xisuma’s team. He entered the Nether with them, not thinking much of it. The biomes surrounding them were amazing. Chef wasn’t the most impressed, but he knew a pretty landscape when he saw one. The team quickly began collecting blocks and achievements, filling out most of the card in no time. 

But while they were flying over a soul sand valley, TFC’s elytra broke. Typically, this wouldn’t be a problem; he’d just loose some stuff and respawn. A bit of an annoyance, sure, but no biggie. Chef, however, had the unfortunate luck of clipping his leg against a cliff before falling. He yelled in pain, falling on the ground beside the lake with half a heart left. The team quickly swooped down to him, gasping upon seeing his leg. Xisuma took a look at it, analyzing it through his helmet. He drew in a quick breath when he realized the scope of the damage. The team quickly got TFC to the Overworld, calling in Doc to help amputate the limb. As soon as the operation began, Xisuma and Grian went off to yell at the Watchers for their faulty coding of the update. It only took half an hour of “convincing” (AKA yelling at the top of their lungs) for the two to get the Watchers started on 1.16.1. Grian stayed behind for a couple days (“However long it takes, I’ll be watching them.”) while X went back to Hermitcraft.

In the weeks after the amputation, TFC was stuck at his base. At first, only Doc, Xisuma, Joe, and Cleo were allowed to visit. After the operation, Doc began working on a mechanical leg with some help from Iskall and, when he returned, Grian. Xisuma kept TFC up-to-date on the stuff that was happening on the server, like TFC’s own personal recap. He also let Chef know the progress on the update, just for reassurance. Joe and Cleo were allowed because hey, a man needs some entertainment, and those two have some of the best daily stories on the whole server! After about a week, however, nearly all the hermits were coming in and out of TFC’s base has they pleased. He didn’t mind for a while; it was nice to catch up with all of them, considering he didn’t know much about the server’s shenanigans to begin with. As a couple weeks passed, however, he decided to switch it back to just the original four, with others allowed if they scheduled it. Chef typically wouldn’t make them schedule their meetings so formally, but these weren’t exactly normal times for him. Besides, X and Doc suggested it, so he could have more alone time. And boy, does TFC like his alone time. 

After about two months of hard work, the mechanical leg was ready. Doc and Iskall had also been giving TFC some physical therapy, as they had both dealt with prosthetic limbs before. They had to do extra research, sure, but it was more than worth it. The two taught him to walk, with Grian giving him flying lessons. It was a shaky start for sure, but eventually TFC was back on his feet and up in the air. 

The first thing that TFC said once he was back in a formal server meeting, tapping on his robotic limb: “Well, looks like this family was functional after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all like this! I posted this on tumblr a little while and forgot to post it here so... here you go.


	4. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songfic of "Sleep" by My Chemical Romance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics are in bold italics. Regular italics are thoughts.
> 
> Tw: suffocation, passing out

**_They’re, they’re these terrors_ **

**_And it feels as if someone was gripping my-_ **

**_They’re, they’re not like tremors; they’re worse than tremors_ **

**_They’re these ter-_ **

Doc combed through the footage. There had to have been something there, anything. There was a reason for everything, across every world. Cause and effect. He knew correlation didn’t imply causation, but… there had to be  _ something _ . He couldn’t've just… 

Doc sighed. He rewinded the video again, staring at the screen as he had for the past… How long has it been? Doc didn’t care. He scoured the footage, analyzing every pixel until his biological eye went numb. He didn’t care at what cost it came to him. There had be a sign, a message, a hint at what was to come. 

A voice nagged at the back of his head, telling him he need to rest.  _ Don’t overwork yourself. Take a break. Go get something to eat. He would’ve wanted you to rest. _

Doc shook his head, erasing the thoughts from his head. There was no telling what he would have wanted. He was gone, and Doc was determined to get him back.

-~-

_ Another block of blackstone here, slab, block, redstone block… Wait, no; the redstone block goes over there. Or maybe… _ Beef rubbed his eyes, yawning as he picked up the offending block. It was getting late, the moon was nearly peaked, but he had to keep building. He just wanted to finish one more building in Three Fox Hole, then he would rest.  _ Ah, that’s where the redstone block goes! And then the glass, and the other color of glass, and the other other color… _

Block after block was placed. Not much thought went into the details, but he’d do those later. He was always better at detailing the buildings in the morning. “Oh wait, Keralis is coming over tomorrow. Oh well; I guess I’ll finish them in the afternoon.” 

Beef was always glad to see his friends. He was hesitant about reaching out, about coming back, but Etho convinced him in the end. It was strange, Etho reassuring him when he refused to return to the server himself. Oh, Beef missed him. That was Etho’s choice, though, and Beef couldn’t and wouldn’t force anything upon him. With or without his old buddy, Beef was glad to be back on Hermitcraft. Especially after…

Beef kept building.  _ Blackstone block, block, stair, polished block, glass, polished slab. _ The city was coming along nicely. Planning out the roads and buildings, filling them all in, and detailing them was all quite relaxing. It was the perfect way to start a new season. Beef stepped back from the building after placing the final slab. He was proud of himself. 

_ He wouldn’t be proud. _

“Yes he would,” he responded to his thoughts aloud. “Of course he would. I’m creating and detailing buildings. He loved that. He’d be proud.” 

_ They’re facades, fronts, empty shells. _

“I’ll fill them in eventually.” 

_ Fill yourself in first. _

Beef squeezed his eyes shut with a sigh. Knowing he wouldn’t win to his thoughts tonight, he kept building. 

_ Rest.  _

There were always other buildings to work on. 

_ Rest _ . 

Details needed to be added. __

_ Rest. _

Mobs that could bring this city to life. 

_ Rest. _

Beef began work on yet another building. He could’ve sworn he heard whispers from behind him, but wrote it off as phantoms, or his insomnia getting to him. “Alright.” He walked away from the build, having run out of blackstone. “I need to get some more- Oomph!” He had run into a street lamp as he turned around. As he looked up, he realized it wasn’t a light on the street, nor a creature of the night come to attack him.

“No, no, no.” Eyes wide as the moon, he stumbled away from the figure. “I- I can’t deal with this again! You’re not real! You can’t be! I- I can’t do this again.” He backed into a wall, sliding onto the ground. Tears welled in Beef’s eyes as he gazed upon the figure. 

Green wrapped around its entire frame, weaving around its torso and limbs. Its face was mostly free of the vines, bar its straggly hair. Its eyes were darker than the void, oozing jet black tears. Beef’s eyes were locked with the figure’s, fear flooding every ounce of his being. When he was finally able to pull away from the unmoving, unblinking voids, his gaze landed on the being’s shirt. His breathing and pulse accelerated as he read the letters: NHO. He timidly brought his eyes back back up. “B- Bdu-”

**_Don’t you breathe for me_ **

**_Undeserving of your sympathy_ **

The air was pulled out of Beef’s lungs, leaving him gasping. He clawed at his throat, eyes somehow widening more. He choked, breathing without air to breathe.  _ How is he- Why is he- _ Beef couldn’t think straight. How could he, unable to breathe because the ghost of his friend yanked the air out of his lungs? 

**_‘Cause there ain’t no way that I’m sorry for what I did_ **

Tears were spilling from Beef’s eyes; out of fear or sadness, he didn’t know.

**_And through it all, how could you cry for me?_ **

**_‘Cause I don’t feel bad about it_ **

Beef wanted to scream. He wanted to tell the phantom all his thoughts. He wanted to tell him how he still cared, how he remembered him, how he’d never let go of him or the memories they shared.

**_So shut your eyes_ **

No, no! Beef felt the unconsciousness pulling at his eyelids, dragging him down. Beef didn’t want to let go! He couldn’t let go! He could never let go! 

**_And sleep_ **

**_Just sleep_ **

The voice reverberated through his brain, overwhelming any thoughts Beef had. It surrounded and enveloped him, echoing through the emptiness inside. He was hollow. He had been, ever since that day. The tears stopped flowing as darkness crept towards him. Eyes flickering, Beef relaxed. The voice echoed one final cry, more to itself than anything else.

**_The hardest part_ **

**_Is letting go of your dreams_ **

He’d just rest a bit. Just for a minute. Just for… 

-~-

**_They’re, they’re these terrors_ **

**_And it feels as if someone was gripping my throat, and squeezing_ **

**_They’re, they’re not like tremors; they’re worse than tremors_ **

**_They’re these terrors_ **

Rewinding the footage again, Doc sighs. He’s getting nowhere with this, but he has to keep going. He would have wanted him to keep going, keep searching for an explanation. He goes over the clip again, subconsciously mouthing the words. He’s heard this so many times, seen this so many times, too many times… He jolts up with a start, his eyes sleepy but wide. He has to stay awake. He has to know what happened. Just a few more minutes.

His stomach growls, like a hoglin that hasn’t been fed in days. When was the last time he ate? That didn’t matter. All that mattered to Doc is answers. Rest and food are for the weak anyways. When was the last time anyone had seen a creeper eat?

_ Vwoosh _

It was a near silent noise, but Doc caught it. He whipped around, sword in hand, ready to face the enderman who dared to interrupt his work. But he didn’t see an enderman. Far from it; he saw a figure leaning again a cluttered table in the corner of the room. A wine glass was held in its hand, and for a moment Doc suspected it to be Joe, bringing him a glass from the winery next door. However, the glass was empty. 

**_A drink_ **

**_For the horror that I’m in_ **

Doc took a moment to look the creature over. Its skin was like his own, rough and plant-like. Was that actually its skin, or a thick layer of foliage covering it? Its eyes and head were hidden in the shadows, except for its half-open mouth lined with teeth sharp as blades.  _ What the heck is this thing? _

**_For the good guys and the bad guys_ **

**_For the monsters that I’ve been_ **

**_Three cheers for tyranny_ **

It hoisted up its glass, acting as if a toast were to be given. Instead, it tossed the glass in the air. Doc was frozen in place out of fear or exhaustion; it was difficult to tell which. He only moved to flinch when the glass shattered on the ground. It sounded as if a million glasses had broken, not just the one. The figure did not react.

**_‘Cause there ain’t no way that I’m coming back again_ **

The words burned themselves in Doc’s mind. He knew instantly what-  _ who  _ the creature was. Or rather, what the creature used to be. He shook it off, dismissed it as his mind playing tricks on him. It liked to do that on late nights like these. Before he could turn around to get back to his work, the figure grabbed him by the shoulder. The two were face to face now, mere inches apart. Its dark, empty eyes stared straight into Doc’s soul. The teeth were far more menacing now, softly clinking with every word spoken. Doc didn’t want to admit it, to himself or the beast, but he was terrified. The voice cried:

**_And through it all, how could you cry for me?_ **

**_‘Cause I don’t feel bad about it_ **

It took its hands off Doc’s shoulders, pushing him back against the desk.

**_So shut your eyes_ **

**_Kiss me goodbye_ **

**_And sleep_ **

**_Just sleep_ **

Doc whipped back around, forcing his eyes back upon his work. One of the monitors was cracked, but he didn’t care. He cared about nothing but the tapes. He blinked hard, pushing back any tears that threatened to spill. He ignored the creature’s- the ghost’s cries behind him. 

**_The hardest part’s_ **

**_The awful things that I’ve seen_ **

He ignored it all, pinning his eyes to the screens. He was so close; he could feel it. Just another couple of minutes and he’d have it. He’d know why Bdubs died. 

**_Sometimes, I see flames_ **

**_And sometimes I see people that I love dying_ **

**_It’s always-_ **

**_Just sleep_ **

The creature whispered. He ignored it.

**_Just sleep_ **

It called to him, like a siren out at sea. He ignored it.

**_JUST SLEEP!_ **

It screamed. Doc whipped around to see the figure levitating off the ground. Wind from nowhere spun around it, papers and small objects being pulled into the gusts. The being’s eyes shone black, somehow emitting light while being dark as black holes. 

Doc couldn’t take his eyes off the figure, and couldn’t deny its appearance any longer: it looked like- no, it  _ was _ Bdubs. Doc saw the bandana, ripped and stained a blood-like green, flapping in the wind. Its hair was swooped in the front, blown up off its face. The logo on its shirt was unmistakable, even through the vines that spread across its chest. It screamed again and again for Doc to sleep. 

Eventually, its voice went hoarse. As the cries faded into echos, the wind slowed. Doc was swaying on his feet as it stopped, collapsing onto the ground. His eyes flickered, but no! He had to hold out. He had to stay awake. 

The figure- Bdubs’ feet gracefully touched the ground. Bdubs made his way over to the nearly unconscious Doc. Doc wanted to reach out to him, say something, anything. But he couldn’t. He… he needed to rest. He needed some sleep. 

The tapes were playing quietly as Doc drifted off. 

**_And I can’t… I cant ever wake up._ **


End file.
